Let me start this by saying coon hunting runs in my family. Every man in my family has raised coon dogs, but I have to say my uncle was the one most infatuated with it. Before he was paralyzed, He had many grand night champion dogs. Now, He is helping me train my English puppy.
Anyways, to get to my story, my cousin was spendin' the night with me last night, and I knew my dog needed some wood time, so I got my cousin talked in to runnin' my dog with me and I got my wheat-light and dog and headed out.
After my dog got done puppyin' around (God, I have to get him over that) and got down to business, we cut the light out and shot the bull for a while, when I got my bag of Red Man out and got a chew. She asked if she could try it, and I gave her one (her first, actually)
Right about that time, Buck, the English pup, let loose choppin' and we followed his barks down to the river where we got caught up in the chase for about an hour, and when we finally got our bearings we were stuck in a briar bush.
While we were trying to maneuver through the briars, we ended up in the middle of a patch of briars and kudzu about a mile long. We tried to figure out about how far we were from the truck when my cousin slipped and tumbled face first into the briars.
Eventually the pup left the tree and found us, and we kept trucking forward and finally came upon a clear spot, only to discover we had made a 3 mile long circle through briars back to the truck. I was surprised when my cousin asked if we could go again next weekend.
Gettin' more people in to the sport
